My Happy Ending
by AshleyTangerine
Summary: A ShinMura and Yuuram story-equally important pairings!I know I should be working on my other stories, but I couldn't get rid of the plot bunny latched onto my head. To Yuuram fans- the second chapter shall have more Yuuram, I promise! Ratings may change.


Chapter 1. The Exodus, The Return

It was spring.

The sakura tree in the corner of the playground was full of pink-and-white flowers. Nobody was near the said tree, though, because the boys were all busy playing soccer on the lush green grass, and the girls were either skipping or playing chase, or on the swings.

The golden-haired and extremely well-dressed little boy who had just stepped out of the school, however, had other ideas. His sharp blue eyes scanned the playground and finally caught sight of a kid of his age sitting hunched up against the tree tunk, almost hidden from sight by the strawberry bushes lining the fence. He made a beeline towards the tree and stopped a few feet away from the kid, hesitating. The kid turned and blinked at him with pretty black eyes and rapidly backed away, long straight hair falling over the scared face.

"Go 'way," the kid ordered in a throaty voice. "I've had enough for the day. I'm not a girl, I told you all!"

"I never said you were!" the other boy protested.

"Well, you'll say it now, won't you?" The boy blinked his long black eyelashes and rubbed at a stray tear. "Just because my hair is long doesn't mean I want to be a girl!"

"I won't call you a girl, I promise, Ken-chan! I just want to be friends with you!" The golden-haired boy pleaded.

The black-haired boy finally looked up, bangs falling over his eyes.

"Trust me!" the golden-haired boy said.

The other boy sniffed and patted the ground beside him. The former was only to relieved to find him recovering. He settled himself down on the grass.

"You know, they all tease me about it," the other boy spoke quite suddenly. "I really can't play soccer-and I've seen you play it. So why do you want to be friends with me? You don't even know me!"

The golden-haired boy blushed and averted his eyes, fixing it on the ground. "I like you."

The other boy looked flabbergasted, and then embarassed and slightly offended. "Boys don't like other boys!"

"But I really do!" the former said earnestly. "And the boys tease you only 'cause you're clever and the girls don't talk to you 'cause you're prettier than them!"

The black-haired boy blinked his eyes again. "You- you really like me, Shin-kun?"

The other boy nodded nervously.

The black-haired boy then smiled. It was a beautiful smile, a smile in which his eyes and face and his pretty hair were all smiling.

The golden-haired boy gulped. He really was so beautiful-so much than those snub-nosed girls who milled round him all the time in class. He bent forward and kissed the other boy's cheek, quickly pulling back to gauge his expression.

The black-haired boy blinked in shock, and then smiled again, bending forward to do the same thing to the other boy. His lips were like sakura petals against his cheek.

"So- does this mean you'll be my boyfriend, Ken-chan?" the golden-haired boy shuffled his feet.

"I guess so," the smile was still happy.

"Ken-chan!" the blond boy ran after the crying boy, who had rushed out of class most uncharacteristically.

"Don't come near me!" the anguished voice said, as the boy hid behind the same tree where he had been a year earlier.

"I swear I didn't know I was going away!" he desperately tried to placate the brunette. He could see the waist-long hair swish behind the tree.

"Don't lie!"

"I'm not lying Ken-chan! You can ask Wolf-chan if you like!"

"No, you're going away 'cause you like Wolf-chan better than me! He studies in that school you'll be going to! Liar!"

"Ken-chan, I don't love anyone but you! I never have! Please don't cry!"

The brunette came out of his hiding place, to the boy's immense relief.

"Then promise you'll never love anyone but me!" the brunette said seriously.

"I promise!" The blond replied with equal seriousness, putting his hand in the other boy's.

They stood there, the sakura petals falling all around them.

"Goodbye, then, Shin-kun," the brunette said, disengaging his hand and turning back towards the school.

He had to do this now!

"Ken-chan?" he said, still hesitant.

"What?" the boy turned round again.

He took a deep breath, and lunged forward, almost knocking the boy over as he pressed his lips to the the other's. They were warm and damp and sweet.

He pulled away the next moment, deja vu of the moment flooding through him. Ken-chan's pretty black eyes- he'd always thought they were so beautiful because he'd never seen black hair and eyes before that- were wider than dinner plates. He slowly moved his palm over his sakura-petal soft mouth and kept it there, motionless and stunned. They both stood there, sapphire connected to onyx.

"Did- did you like it, Ken-chan?" he fidgeted.

The brunette finally smiled that rosy perfect smile-the smile which made him look like everything about him was smiling.

"Yes! This is a sign of your promise! You'll never kiss anyone in that way but me, ever!"

"I promise!" he repeated, putting their hands together again. He seemed to remember something, and took a small silver ring from his pocket. He thrust it into the brunette's middle finger.

"This fits my left ring finger," he told the brunette. "When I come back for you, you'll wear it on your left ring finger, okay?"

"Is this- an engagement ring?" the brunette blushed, amazed.

The other boy nodded vigorously. "Yes. This means you're my fyans!"

"Fi-an-ce," the brunette corrected automatically. "You will come back, won't you?"

"I'll come back, Ken-chan. I'll come back to fetch you!"

"MURATA! Are you even listening to me?" Murata was snapped out of his daydream rudely by his best friend Yuuri.

"Of course I am. You're still ranting about von Bielefeld driving you mad and you can't say a thing about it to him." Murata, while not actually listening to Yuuri, could efficiently sum up what he was talking about even if woken up in the middle of the night- because he was a genius and could tell just by looking at his expression.

Yuuri blushed hotly, apparently still unaware of the scarlet blaze on his face. "I hadn't got to that part yet! He was just talking to all those stupid girls who were all over him like he was a prince and he then smiled at me and when I was just going over to talk, this blond guy appeared and dragged him off-and he was forced, I know it, he didn't look pleased at all!"

Murata groaned. From the day Wolfram von Bielefeld joined the class, his life had been hell. Shibuya was his partner for the classes they took together- the rest he shared with the golden-blond, emerald-eyed boy whose staggering physical perfection which bordered on feminine knocked everyone off their feet the first they saw him. He recalled Yuuri's face the first day- sitting slack-jawed as the boy approached him shyly and asked whether he could sit with him. He was a year younger, but he'd been home-schooled and so was ahead of the juniors and had been placed in their year. And he obviously had a huge crush on Yuuri- anyone would see that except his naive best friend!

"He _really_ goes to see this guy from the third year senior classes- I asked Mai, she'd seen him once or twice! They all drool over him, saying he's so hot and all- every single girl in the school is in love with him already! Dammit, he's leading the girls around on a string, why can't he leave Wolfram alone! I mean, Wolfram's a guy-not that I like him!" Yuuri finished lamely, tacking on the last part hurriedly.

"Probably because Wolfram is prettier than any girl?" Murata offered graciously, rolling his eyes mentally at his rigidly 'straight' friend. Talk about denial of one's feelings.

Yuuri growled. "That's it, I've had enough. I'm going to ask him out-I mean ask him who that guy is! Or find out somehow!"

Plan reporting-bait taken! Mission successful.

"Murata! Help me, c'mon!" Yuuri begged. "You're a part of the Student Council, you should know who this guy is!"

Plan reporting-unexpected complication arisen.

"Please, Murata?" Yuuri unleashed his puppy-dog black-eyed look on him-the dangerous one which no one could resist and which had felled Wolfram von Bielefeld on his first day of school completely. Murata had never really understood what Shin-kun had meant by black-eyed charm before he experienced it first-hand.

"Fine!" Murata grumbled. There went his plan! He unconsciously clenched the ring around his middle finger tightly.

"Yay! Thanks, Murata!" Yuuri bear-hugged him, nearly strangling him.

"Ugh, use that kind of hug on Wolfram, not me. And that look too-no, wait you always use it already," Murata said, brushing his black bangs back out of his eyes. He adjusted his glasses so that they weren't glinting and everyone could see his black eyes. He ruffled his nape-long unruly hair absent-mindedly, making it wilder and messier around the sides. The hair gel he was using was pretty good, he mused. He'd have to buy some more, it was way better than the earlier one, which would make him feel like a scarecrow in a storm. The two 'double-blacks' as they were called sauntered along the corridor.

"Hey Murata, I always forget to ask you, what's with the ring?" Yuuri queried blatantly. "I've always seen you wearing it, you never take it off-you had it even when the fashion wasn't there! Is it special?"

Murata snapped out of his reverie again and he stared at the ring. Why did he wear it indeed, he thought wryly to himself. He'd never get the future he'd hoped for so desperately. Shin-kun was never coming back to fetch him. It had been two innocent ten-year olds with their first crush, torn apart a year later with unfulfilled promises of coming back. They were still in primary school then, neither had bothered even asking each other their full names- meaning there had been no mails, no calls. The ring-even the ring-it was quite worthless compared to the fortune Shin-kun always seemed to bask in-he clearly remembered the black BMW which he was always escorted to and back from school in and the Mercedes which took him away from him the last time he'd seen him. It was just a case of seriously overblown puppy love which had dimished in the blond's case, Murata decided.

Except that in his case the crush had grown deeper and more fixated every passing year. He'd cut off his long black hair despite protests from his mother that day itself. Nobody would get to touch his hair except Shin-kun. He was the first to call it beautiful. He'd studied so hard he'd fallen sick, he had to take glasses. He retreated into his corner again, the flamboyance of the previous year forgotten. Everybody felt the loss of the class leader, but no one so deeply as him. They all gathered strength to move on. He didn't. He couldn't. He waited. He'd always wait.

Shin-kun had been his first friend- the first one in all his life when he was ten. He'd moved from where he was living to a new place, his parents were still both working and still ninety-nine percent indifferent to his whereabouts, and still out of the house sixty-five hours a week-whether for work or anything else like posh parties and shopping trips or week-long vacations. He still endured it, strove to become a better student. Well, not exactly strove. He was a good student already, he'd never been known to work hard or anything. He didn't need it-he was a genius. Versed in five languages, attending senior classes for most subjects. Apple of his female teachers' eyes, he could always bewitch them with his smile. Not that earlier smile. Nobody had seen that earlier smile for six years. No, it was a half-upturned twist of the mouth which had the effect of a cheeky-but-sweet smirk which never failed to send the girls into raptures over his erudite and dignified manners. Nobody thought of him as girly any more. Here in Shin Makoku Academy, the talent was first and last word about any student. He'd got in on a merit scholarship for literature-he'd insisted on taking the exam, though his parents could afford the fees. He didn't want to show off how affluent he was. Especially not in front of his best friend Shibuya, who was basically average in everything except baseball, where he was God to the thousands of screaming fans across the district whenever they played a match. He was so good he was already a star player in the Flaming Wolves team which ranked second in the district. With him on the team, they could easily bag the top spot. Yes, Shibuya was King to all the hyperventilating students(and in some cases, teachers) of Shin Makoku Academy, and he was the Great Sage-since he knew absolutely everything. Absolutely everything. Even patience. Waiting.

He'd waited six years, dammit! Why couldn't he forget it! Why didn't he throw the ring away!

"Yeah, it's special. Very special. I got this six years ago from a friend."

Yuuri stared at Murata, beginning to comprehend. He hadn't been there the year Shin-kun had come, but he'd always heard whispers about him. Coincidentally, he'd arrived the day after the blond left. He'd been the one to take up the position of class leader- he'd been the one to keep Murata alive through those horrible first days of separation.

They never talked about it. Murata had been very tight-lipped about it all and Yuuri had figured bothering him about it was a bad idea. Which it was. But it was too damn long-this silent suffering had to stop.

"Murata? Have you ever tried…" he began, but the other boy cut him off almost instantly.

"You're late for class with von Bielefeld," he pointed out, which made Yuuri rear his head like a startled colt and make off at top speed towards the said class. Murata shook his head at Yuuri's antics and made his way to his class. He remembered his promise to Yuuri and sighed.

"Damn Shibuya," he muttered. "Now I'll have to speak to Mitsuki about the new student register." He remembered his schedule then, and cursed. "Shit, man, I'm late for Political Science senior class on the third floor! It's my first time too!" He hurried up the stairs, his duffel bag swinging behind him. When he reached the third floor, he dashed towards the door. Unfortunately for him , he bumped into someone at the door, his duffel bag landing on the ground and the books in it spilling out partially. He himself had fallen on his back and his glasses fell. In short, it was a complete disaster.

"Kuso," he swore softly, as his head miraculously hit the doorframe. Hard.

"I'm so sorry!" the boy he had bumped into knelt down in front of him, gathering the scattered books and puuting them inside the bag before picking up the glasses. "Are you all right?" He gently pushed up Murata's chin until he faced the boy, whose face he really couldn't see well, partly because of his bangs and partly because of his poor eyesight. The boy was putting the glasses on the nose when a small breeze rushed towards them, turning the bangs askew in the same way Murata used to wear his hair when he was little. The boy's fingers froze halfway. He let go of the glasses and stared at Murata, who adjusted his glasses and froze himself as he looked into sapphire blue eyes.

Sapphire blue eyes-sapphire blue eyes! SAPPHIRE BLUE EYES!

Murata looked at them in disbelief. Only one person could have those eyes!

Maybe he should have been more careful.

Maybe he should have been less fragile.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so very madly in love in the first place.

Because the next words were enough to break his heart like it was glass and send the tattered string necklace of his life snap and send the beads it was made up of scattering across the floor.

"Do I know you?"

**A/N: Okaaaaaaay, so I stayed up half a night to write this, so I insist on you reviewing this even if you're half-asleep. It's a ShinouXMurata story with a not-so-side pair of Yuuram. Loosely based on Only The Ring Finger Knows, which you might have guessed already. WTF? You haven't read it? Oh, well, now you can go to Mangafox to read the scanlations of the manga and novels! Forgive me if there was unintentional OOCness on Yuuri's part. I tried to avoid it, and it's all right if you consider his reaction to Wolfram in later parts of the anime.**


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